Once the Cheering Stops: The Life of a Retired Pro Athlete

Sometimes when people ask me what I want to do after I graduate, I tell them that I'd like nothing more than to do nothing but watch Netflix for the rest of my life, which is absolutely not true. Don't get me wrong-- I love marathoning such quality titles as "That 70's Show" or "One Tree Hill," but there's no way I could ever spend all of my time moping around in sweats, watching Netflix and generally feeling sorry for myself before an inherent feeling of uselessness set in. For many professional athletes, however, post-retirement is alarmingly similar to my theoretical post-grad plans; often after they retire, professional athletes spend a lot of time indoors, perhaps streaming TV shows and movies for hours on end, and ultimately feeling sorry for themselves.
And why wouldn't they? Looking back on life and realizing that your life's "high point" was in your early to mid-twenties doesn't instill a sense of motivation or enthusiasm for the future by any means-- in fact, this exact sentiment is why so many ex-professional athletes cite depression as one of the main things they struggled with after hanging up their jersey for good. After retirement, unless an athlete has been very careful with their finances, there's a good chance that they will run into money troubles-- according to Sports Illustrated, 78% of NFL players are bankrupt within two years of retiring. The lifestyle they lead while playing isn't sustainable in the longterm, which ends up being something that many pro-athletes have had to learn the hard way. Another thing athletes struggle with after they retire is a colossal identity crisis. If a person spends their whole life fine-tuning a set of skills as specific as playing sports, then that's the most established part of their developed "self," so giving up the game is, in fact, giving up a large part of themselves. I am by no means a professional athlete, but when I think about being done with crew after college, I have a tiny freakout, because for the past three years, I've been recognized as Emily Connelly: Rower. I can't imagine if my whole life was focused around the sport and my career had a blatant expiration date like those of professional football or basketball players.
In the ESPN movie "Broke," the idea of professional athletes as competitors in every walk of life was very striking-- the living lavishly wasn't necessarily because all of the athletes get drafted to the NBA, MLB or NFL and then suddenly acquire a thirst for fifty-six thousand square feet and a cherry red Lamborghini, it's because culturally, it's what they're expected to want. In a way, competing with other men (always men-- when was the last time you saw a WNBA player in a Maserati? My guess is never, since in 2012 the average salary for a WNBA player was $72,000 annually… um…) is what US society expects their athletes to do, and in becoming big spenders, professional athletes are playing into cultural blueprints of expectations. In order to be that caliber of athlete, your competitive drive has to be immense, so why wouldn't translate into off-court interactions?
Transitioning from making millions of dollars a year to making virtually no money calls for a fundamental lifestyle alteration, but after participating in an enterprise of excess for however long one's contract (and body) allows, I don't imagine that cutting back comes particularly easily. When I quit my summer job before college, I had a hard time adjusting to my new means, and I worked at a grocery store. I can't even begin to fathom how difficult the fiscal shift is for retiring athletes.
I think the "here today, gone tomorrow" nature of professional athletes careers contributes to their longterm short comings-- when you're on top of the world, there's a feeling of invincibility, untouchableness. Many of the athletes in the movie discussed getting caught up in the spending and spending machine, and losing themselves in the process. The wise scholar Young Jeezy once said, "gotta stay true to who you are and where you came from, 'cause at the top will be the same place you hang from," which is a sentiment that was deeply manifest in Broke. In failing to plan for their futures and getting too caught up in appearances, the fall from grace for many professional athletes has catastrophic and painful repercussions. But as the only woman in the film said, "Nobody feels bad for you when you've squandered away millions of dollars." That's true. Us little people just sit here, think about how stupid they are with their money, and then find solace in the statement, "I would never do that." It's easy to make judgement calls when it's not (and likely never will be) your money.

Author's note: Young Jeezy is not actually a scholarly source. I know.